Tango: Literati
by lostladyknight
Summary: An everlasting romance. A burning desire. An electric passion. Jess and Rory get a few moments together. Oneshot set sometime after the series end. Written for the 5th FCG challenge. Enjoy it!


**A/N**: I hope you've all read the story that AmandaRuth posted a few days ago. Well, if you did you'll note that she mentioned a challenge at the FCG (Fanfiction Critique Group). Well this is my submission for the challenge. To remind you, the criteria can be found at the bottom of this page. If you have any interest in the FCG, our challenges, or any questions about it I invite you to ask. Please either PM me or go to my profile and follow the link near the bottom.

A few last minute notes. As the title and summary suggest this fic is Literati. I've never presumed, in all of my GG viewing years, that Rory belonged with anyone other than Jess. Second, I have never written for Gilmore Girls before. I love the fandom, but that doesn't mean anything. Please tell me honestly what you think of my first attempt. Lastly, the title and some elements of this fic are very loosely based on the song "Tango: Maureen" from the Broadway musical _RENT_. Just wanted to make you all aware. Please enjoy it, and I'd love a review or two. -LLK

* * *

Tango: Literati

- -

A slim, firm, tender, finger jabbed twice into a low point on the right side of her rib cage. She didn't flinch. The finger flattened and an open hand ran up her side, over her shoulder, and down her arm, stopping at her wrist for a slight pause before wrapping around her hand; she felt a tug on her arm. She didn't flinch. When another tug didn't yield any reaction, two hands fell on her shoulders and a pair of lips played on her neck below her chin. Her head twitched away and settled only a moment later. She had barely flinched.

"Do you have to do that now?" A hand gripped the book in front of her and tried to pull it away.

"I do." The look he gave her was a combination of playful hurt and confusion. "I have to fall asleep."

"No, you _want_ to fall asleep," his tone was deep and husky. He shifted away from her as she watched his body drop onto the bed. The comforter fluffed around him from the exuberance of his fall.

She glanced at the book in her lap and then back up to the bed, and him--the picture was too inviting. She arched her spine setting her back straight, squared her jaw, and lowered her eyes back to her work. When her focus wasn't on the black of the pages, the very letters and words, she had to force it on the white spaces between, else she'd lose it. Another look at him and her efforts of the evening would be completely for naught.

Though she strained her ears to miss the lightly muffled sounds he made every time he shifted—the bed teasing, telling all--each motion thumped loudly to her, a rhythm like the pounding in her chest, through her veins. Together the sounds they made, his breath--his life and her heart-- were a chorus of drums, a tribal melancholy.

Her book snapped closed with a furious final beat and all the sounds quelled. They were bathed in a pristine silence, not a single breath was heard. She stalked towards him slowly, "the effect you have on me isn't natural."

"I don't think that's fair," his low voice cracked as the warmth of two bodies meshed as one. "You've been doing it to me since the day I met you."

"Not at first," her voice was barely audible as her cheeks rose and fell with his chest. "Do you even remember the day we met?"

"I do." One of his hands slid up her back and then traced a pattern back and forth along her arm. "It was autumn and Luke dragged me to dinner at your house. I was being attacked by some guy with a 'really good lemon' when I turned around and saw you sitting there--you were wearing a white sweater and doing homework or something at your computer. I was already in love with you for giving me a reprieve from the crazy man with the lemon, but then I started looking around your room for an idea of who you were..."

"It was Jackson with the lemons. I remember that night, too, you asked if I was hooked on phonics," her breathy voice accused. "And then you told me you didn't read."

"I did not," he laughed a little and lowered his lips to the top of her head. "I said I didn't read _much_. It wasn't a lie. I still don't read as _much_ as I would like."

"I'm still not so sure about that." She curled closer to him, burrowing into the warmth of his body heat. "I think you secretly hate reading. You're always trying to come between us."

"Us?" his brow knitted with jealousy.

"Dickens, Kafka, Twain," her face slowly lit into a smile. "We're in love. All of us. We're getting married in a spring ceremony in March. Though, I'm not sure which March; it may be a while because someone's going to have to perfect time travel first. It doesn't matter, I promised I'd wait for them."

"You shouldn't say things like that." In one fluid motion of his arm, he'd twisted both of their bodies even closer. "I might start to believe you."

Her lips silenced him in a forceful push of flesh on flesh. A murmur escaped from between them as his fingers entwined into her hair. Their bodies arced together, a flash of electricity passing between them. It was an audible groan this time that coursed through the room, soaring away from their tangled bodies. Lips ventured further from lips, traced paths along warm supple flesh and tight woven muscle. A hitched breath and both bodies froze.

"You should finish your article," his masculine voice said through stale air and hot breath. "Tony's going to be pissed if you hand another piece in late."

"You," she pulled away from him letting a hand fall quickly on his bare chest, a sharp sound resonated from the contact, "are absolutely the most infuriating... ugh... you're a tease."

"Well, if you'd rather have me than a job," his lips spread thin exposing a row of perfectly imperfect white pearls. "I mean, if that's what you really want... I guess I can accommodate."

"Jess." He caught her hand in the air this time and pulled her to him. He smelled of ink, old books, and a faint musk of cedar. Her mind and body lost complete contact with one another in a single breath of him, "mmhmm."

A few more kisses dropped slowly on his lips as her body began lifting from his. Both felt an unwelcome breath of coldness, "I can't."

"Go finish." He pushed her away from him gently. "I'll keep the bed warm for you."

Another kiss. She shifted further away from him. Another kiss. Her bare toes spread from the cold plush of carpet beneath them. Another kiss. Her eyes slowly started to adjust to text, contoured paper, and incandescent light. One more kiss. His body fell away from her, perfect muscles stacked on cream colored down and on warmth and on love.

The rhythm reprized.

It more than a dance; it was a tango.

.:End:.

- Penned by Lostladyknight in the week of August 31, 2008.

_

* * *

_

_The Challenge:_ 1. Must include the phrase: "Do I have to fall asleep..." 2. Must be a minimum of 1000 words 3. Must have a maximum rating of PG 13 4. Must include a fandom you don't normally write for. 5. Must either be romantic, angst, or humor, but could also be some combination of the three. _Issued by Racefh853629._


End file.
